


Day 6576

by redbaretta



Category: the GazettE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Domestic Boyfriends, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M rating is only for slight dirty talk and allusions to sex, M/M, No Smut, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:54:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23082805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redbaretta/pseuds/redbaretta
Summary: Uruha contemplates his journey with the GazettE, and with Reita.
Relationships: Reita/Uruha (the GazettE)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	Day 6576

**Author's Note:**

> I started drafting this in late November 2019 out of inspiration. It's probably a good thing I started then, as it meant I had enough time to flesh this out to publish today. I haven't written a Gazette fic in almost 10 years. But that's a good thing, as I'm not the best writer out there, and I think age (and reading a lot of good fics/books in the meantime) has done a lot of good in making my writing a lot less awful than the stuff I put out in my teen years. I wrote this mainly for myself, because I've been a fan for 14 years, and had felt nostalgic and emotional when I popped back into fandom only to see that they still like each other so much, still so happy to be doing this, and are still so ambitious. I also wrote this because I love Reita/Uruha to death, and I just really wanted to see them in a fic like this. 
> 
> Despite this being incredibly self-indulgent and, at times, egregiously cheesy (I am trying my best to own up to this part of myself), I hope you enjoy.

Uruha woke to the faint light that filtered through the sheer blinds of their home in Shounan. The air was still dry and cold, but they have been seeing warmer days, winter slowly thawing and making way for the arrival of spring.

He breathes in the crisp morning air, contently curled up in the warmth of their bed, but pauses when he notices the space beside him empty. He reaches for his phone to check his messages and finds only a message from Reita, telling him that he has gone out and will be home later that morning.

Turning over on his side, Uruha calls his number, and gets picked up after three and a half rings.

“ _Finally awake huh_ ,” Reita teases, his deep voice cheerful over the phone.

“Says the crazy one running errands at ass o’clock in the morning,” Uruha quips back, “What are you doing up so early?”

“ _Picking up some stuff I bought online_ ,” he says, “ _Delivery was expensive._ ”

“That sounds troublesome,” Uruha yawns, huddling into his blanket, “Will you be back soon?”

Reita pauses, and over the line, Uruha could hear a woman – possibly customer service – call out Reita’s name. “ _They just got my package. I’ll be home soon,”_ he replies eventually, “ _Go wash up and brush your teeth, I’m demanding kisses_ _when I get back!_ ”

Uruha groans and buries his face into his pillow. “Gross,” he squirms, “You’re damn lucky that you’re cute.”

“ _Only for you,”_ he says, and Uruha gags. Reita giggles from the other side, “ _I gotta go now. See you in a bit. I love you.”_

Uruha replies with a “Love you, too,” and hangs up. Satisfied, he slips out from under the sheets to wash up and make some tea.

The air outside was colder than within as he settled down on their balcony, mug of tea by his side, his MacBook snug on his lap. He slips on his headphones and opens the demo he had been working on for the past several weeks. Though they had all promised to start working on their next album only after their break, it became very apparent that none of them understood the concept of it, with Aoi being the first to show off his demo just before they rung in the New Year, motivating Uruha to work on the drafts he had saved while they were on tour. While some parts still needed fleshing out, overall, his demo was almost done. He is pretty sure that it will be ready in time for song selection after their anniversary live.

‘Eighteen years…’ he thought to himself. No, more than that, if he included the days before the GazettE. It has been more than 18 years since he started this, making music, performing lives and working side by side with the people he had unexpectedly come to care for more than anybody else. As the band’s anniversary grew nearer, Uruha found himself increasingly sentimental that he is still allowed to do this for a living. That he still gets to do this with Ruki, Aoi, and Kai by his side. With Reita by his side. Despite everything they had gone through.

❄

Money is always tight when you are a small indie band trying to stand out in a scene as niche as Visual Kei, competing with a hundred other bands out there that, to the untrained eye, also look like you.

It was yet another night of sleeping outside. Their band was set to play the next day, and while they could afford to get to the venue, they could not afford a room for the night. Although they were tempted to try sneaking into a hotel room, like some of the other bands have done, it was too big a blow to their pride. And so here they were, five grown men stuffed inside a bust-up tour van, hoping to catch any sleep they can get despite being poked in the rib by someone’s elbow or by the corners of their own equipment.

Uruha sucks in a sharp breath, curling further into himself as the bitter cold seeps into the confines of their van, numbing his fingertips. He was on the verge of shoving his hands between his thighs when he felt something warm get tossed atop of him: a woolen jacket, thick and soft to the touch. He looks up from where he was on the chipping seats.

“Aki—Reita, you shouldn’t—,” he stutters, worry marring his face as Reita settles across from him, looking smaller than he had seen him in a while. They have only begun calling each other by their new stage names a few months ago. He still slips up every now and then.

“No, take it. I’ll be fine,” his friend insists. But Uruha knew better.

“Reita, it’s too cold. Come here, stay with me,” Uruha whispers, pulling a bewildered Reita towards him and flinging the woolen jacket atop them both. After a few moments of shuffling and rearranging their bony limbs, the two men found themselves a comfortable enough fit, as good a fit as it will get in a van with three other people. Reita mutters a shy “thanks” in gratitude.

“You should be,” Uruha sighs, exhausted. Reita can really be so reckless sometimes.

The two lay in silence for a while, for what seemed like hours, as Uruha tries his best to block out the streetlights outside, and the dark thoughts that began to swirl in his mind, keeping him from sleep. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he startled when Reita pressed his callous thumb between his eyebrows. He did not realize that Reita was still awake. He did not realize that he was frowning.

Reita pulls his hand back and tucks himself closer, his eyes watchful, “Something’s bothering you. What’s wrong?”

Uruha swallows thickly, reluctant to answer. The last thing he wants is to worry his friend. God knows what time it is at this point. They need all the rest they could get. “Don’t worry about it. Just thinking of some stuff. Go to sleep, Reita.”

Reita shakes his head, not letting up, “I’ve noticed this for a while now. Tell me, if you can. Seeing you troubled worries me.”

Uruha’s gaze drops down to the seats beneath them, “I-I just—,” he stutters and pauses, “Mom and dad had been so against me doing this, you know?”

He pauses and looks up tentatively at his friend. Reita nods encouragingly. He continues. “Most days I don’t think about what they say. Most days, things are okay, things are great even. But then shit like this keeps happening and I just can’t help but think…maybe they’re right,” he whispers, folding in on himself. The wind continues howling just beyond the fogged-up glass. “I’m sorry. I know it sounds bad.”

He feels fingers brush away the hair from his face and card through it softly. When he looks up, he sees Reita looking at him fondly.

“You silly thing,” Reita whispers gently, his deep drawl soothing Uruha’s nerves, “And here I thought you were neck deep in something illegal and we had the Yakuza on our backs.”

Uruha splutters and slaps Reita on the chest, “As if I’d get us caught up in that shit!”

“Joking, joking! Of course you wouldn’t,” Reita giggles softly, and placates his frowning friend with a ruffle of his hair, “Uru, how long has this been bothering you?”

“…It pops up every now and then,” he mutters, “But not that often. I don’t want you to worry about it,” he finishes quietly.

Reita huffs out a breath and smiles, “No, I’m not worried. And honestly, neither should you.”

Uruha slowly frowns, confused.

Reita shuffles to make himself comfortable, “Do you remember those days? When we spent our summers watching Luna Sea videos? Saved up money to buy our first guitars? And we learned the score together and kept at it for days, and you said that this was more fun than all the games we played during soccer club?”

Uruha swallows and nods. He remembers, but it has been a while since he thought of them. Too busy to dwell on things that did not help pay the bills.

“You want this more than anything,” Reita whispers so softly, so assuredly. Uruha feels his heart about to burst. “I know this, I know you. You are steadfast, and disciplined, and you love this. I have no doubt that you will make it.”

Uruha holds back his sob, which would have sounded ugly and all too loud in the silence of the van. ‘Get it together,’ he thought. Now is a horrible time to start crying.

“I understand that they’re your parents,” Reita continues calmly, “I understand that they worry. But one day, we’ll be performing in front of hundreds, thousands of people, playing songs we wrote ourselves. One day, we might even make it to Budokan. It sounds like a far-off dream, but it’s not out of reach. Because you are here with us, with me. And I don’t doubt you at all. So, don’t doubt yourself, okay?”

Uruha nods and furiously wipes his tears away, overwhelmed and infuriated, “Okay, okay, yeah. Just so you know I hate this, I hate you. It’s too late to feel so many damn things right now.”

Reita chuckles quietly, “Aw, I love you too,” he coos, petting Uruha’s head in soft, steady strokes, until Uruha eventually succumbs to tiredness, whispering a barely heard “thank you” before he falls asleep beside his best friend.

Despite the ache in his shoulders and back, Uruha woke up the next day with his chest feeling lighter than it had been in a long time. And if the band had been more lenient on him that day, treating him to cigarettes, carrying his equipment, and giving him fond looks when they think he is not looking, he does not press Reita on what he might have done to cause it.

🌸

“I’m home!”

Uruha removes his headphones and peeks through the balcony railing, “Welcome back!” he shouts, before returning to his demo and hitting ‘Save’. By the time his file finished saving, Reita had made his way upstairs, the door to the balcony sliding open and close behind him.

“Hey, you,” Reita greets him, settling down beside him on the bench and pecking him softly on the cheek, “Sorry I wasn’t there when you got up.”

“Wow, someone is greasy this morning,” Uruha grins, nudging Reita’s shoulder, “Demanding kisses and now this. Is there something I should know?”

“Why am I getting questioned by my boyfriend for saying romantic things? Accept my love and affection!” Reita retorts and pinches his arm hard. Uruha squawks and slaps his hand away. “By the way, did you fill their food bowl this morning?”

Uruha rubs his arm where Reita had pinched him, “Yeah I did,” he nods over to the bird enclosure inside where Keiji and Oscar are perched, preening and chattering away.

“Ah, thanks for that,” Reita smiles, “And what about you, have you eaten?”

As if on cue, Uruha’s stomach growled loudly between them, and Reita burst into laughter. Uruha slaps his shoulder repeatedly, embarrassed but giggling all the same, “Shut up! I was working on a demo and got carried away.”

“That’s so you,” Reita chuckles. He pats his thigh and quickly gets up, “Well then, come downstairs. I’ll make brunch.”

Uruha starts and turns to look at Reita curiously. He had been kidding earlier, when he asked Reita if he was hiding something. But now, he was not so sure. “You? Make food? Who are you and what did you do to Reita?”

“Rude. I’ll have you know I am not _completely_ inept in the kitchen,” Reita sticks his tongue out and makes his way back inside, “I’m only making omelette. I bought the rest from that café you wanted to try. Now go put your stuff away and come downstairs!” he prods before disappearing behind the door, making kissy-noises at Keiji and Oscar as he walks by.

Uruha stares at his retreating form, suspicious at his strange behavior. Something was up. Closing the lid of his laptop, Uruha grabs his mug of tea and walks back inside. ‘No matter,’ he thought. Reita was never good at keeping secrets anyway. Either he will tell him eventually, or Uruha will tease the information out of him first.

🍂

If someone had asked Uruha back then to pick the one thing he had utmost confidence in, he would pick his friendship with Reita.

They had known each other since elementary school; had gone through their best and their worst moments together and came out every time with their friendship intact. Uruha had been so sure that he had seen it all. That between them, there were no stones left unturned.

All that changed when they started a band together. With the drama of shady labels, unreliable band mates, stiff competition and adult responsibilities, Uruha realized, to his dismay, that there were many, _many_ things he did not know about his friend. One day, they would be planning what direction to take their music, what concepts they wanted to try next; the next day, they would be arguing over who ate the last packet of ramen, and why their bank account was short by 10,000 yen. Some days, Reita was the glue that held them together when everything else threatened to tear them apart. Other days, he would fuck off to god knows where without telling anyone, just because he did not want to see his band mates (see Uruha) for at least a day.

As the GazettE grew more successful, moments like these became less and less frequent. Earning a decent living and no longer needing to bum cigarettes from each other went a long way to smooth the hiccups in their relationship. However, the experience had left its mark on him nonetheless, and sometimes Uruha wondered if he was standing on the edge of the precipice and he simply did not know it. If at any given moment, his friendship with Reita would snap under the weight of all that has happened, and in his own carelessness, he would be too late to save it.

And amidst all that was happening, there was Ruki. Sharp-tongued, quick-witted Ruki, with his boundless energy and never-ending spunk. Uruha had liked him the moment they met. But with Reita, it was like lighting striking kerosene. They became inseparable, and where one was, you were bound to find the other. Ruki made Reita laugh more than anyone Uruha had ever known. But instead of feeling happy for his friend – for the band, because it was a miracle how effortlessly Ruki had fit in – the feeling that he felt strongest instead was dread. And for the longest time, Uruha did not understand why. Until one day, he did.

It happens during their Nippon Budokan final after-party. To play at Budokan was a landmark achievement for the band, a dream they never thought would come true. It called for a celebration of grand proportions, and to this end, their manager had booked a whole bar for the band and the crew to celebrate to their heart’s content.

Kai made the first toast, then the head of the roadie team, and then the head of the make-up crew. The toasts seemed endless, but none of it matters, because they just did the impossible. They conquered fucking Budokan.

By the end of the first hour, nearly everyone was inebriated and in good spirits. Uruha was on his third beer when Reita slips beside him and flings an arm around his shoulder. The lights in the bar were dim, but Uruha sees enough to know that he was tipsy, his cheeks tinted red and his lips stretched in a wide, goofy smile.

“Uru, we did it,” he slurs in the din of the bar, “I told you didn’t I, we did it!”

Happiness radiated out of Reita’s every pore, and Uruha soaks it all up, endeared. “Yeah, you did…” he begins, but finds it difficult to continue. He feels at a loss for words now that reality has hit him.

“I told you not to doubt yourself,” Reita smiles wider, “Am I right, or am I right?”

Uruha laughs, surprised. He had nearly forgotten about that. It had been years since they have had that conversation, but he is touched that Reita remembers all the same. He smiles widely at his friend and savors the weight of his arm around his shoulder, solid and sure. A familiar warmth blooms within his chest and spreads down to the tips of his toes. It was a sensation he had been getting more often lately, and it only happens when he is with Reita.

He was about to quip back at his friend, tell him that he has had too much to drink, when Ruki swoops in from behind and all but drags Reita away from him, yelling at him to “Come the fuck over, I need to show these fools that I can take a bet!”

He sees Reita shake his head and gawk. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Ugh just—come here!” Ruki groans, and proceeds to pull his friend over to a large table where a group of staff members and roadies have gathered to play a drinking game. The warmth around his shoulder slips away as suddenly as it came, and as Uruha stared at the scene before him he feels it again. That dread. The way his throat seems to clog and his stomach swoop uncomfortably when he sees them together.

_KISS! KISS! KISS! KISS!_ The table chants, loud and unrelenting. _You lost the bet, time to face the consequences, Ruki!_ A senior roadie shouts. _It doesn’t need to be on the lips, we can settle for the cheek!_ A girl from the make-up crew offers.

That last one seems to do the trick. Because right after she says it, Ruki pulls Reita’s head down, and pecks him on the cheek.

The table explodes in uproar. The rest of the band and crew head over to see what was going on. And while everyone was shouting over one another – Reita screaming “Ugh, gross!” as Ruki spits on the ground to the howls of laughter and cheer – all Uruha could comprehend was the cold, visceral ache that tears its way across his chest, the vertigo of his world tilting on its axis, and the loud, all-consuming voice in the back of his head that calmly tells him, _Congratulations. You’re in love with your best friend._

‘Oh no,’ he thinks gravely, beer turning bitter on his tongue. This was never supposed to happen. Falling in love with his best friend had _never_ been part of the plan.

The celebration continued unbeknownst to his inner turmoil, the sound of it drowned out by the ringing in his ears. No-one notices the dimmed brightness of his smile, the sudden strain in his laugh. Nor do they notice his alcohol remaining untouched for the rest of the evening.

Hours later, when the party was over, Uruha stares up at the pitch-black ceiling of his hotel room, and he makes a decision. He decides that, no. He will not ruin this. He has worked too hard – they have all worked too hard – for this be ruined because he caught fucking feelings. Whatever he feels for Reita, he will keep it to himself. He will not let his feelings make him the weak link of this band. He will not let his feelings bar them from the heights he knows they can achieve.

So he devotes himself to his work; channels all his time and effort into the band, and keeps himself so busy that his mind has no time for anything else. Years go by, and with each successive release – from Stacked Rubbish, to Dim, to Toxic, to Division – the band’s renown steadily grew. Each day, he feels more confident about the decision he has made. And if the band had noticed anything different about him, from the longer hours he spent at the studio, to the excuses he made to hang out with Reita less and less, they certainly do not mention it to him.

🌓

Things come to a halt when Aoi confesses that he wants to leave the band.

Uruha had been the one to call him out first. He had noticed his friend distancing himself, joining sessions with others more often than he came for rehearsal, and drinking excessively to the point where even _they_ were concerned for his health. Uruha had brought it up during a band meeting one day, and for better or worse, anything they had planned to discuss that day was thrown out the window. Because the future of the band was at stake. Because their band mate – who, up until that point, showed no sign that he did not want to be there – felt upset enough that he wanted to leave.

They talk it out, like they always do. They talk it out, until there was nothing left undiscussed. Until someone breaks down, cries, spills their guts onto the table, so that everyone knows for sure that there was nothing left undiscussed. Aoi, predictably, breaks down first, followed by Ruki, and then Kai. And then soon enough, they were all crying. It was a snot-filled affair, but it had to be done. So that by the end of the day, everyone knew where everyone stood, and that whatever decision they came to, at least they came to it together.

Aoi ended up not leaving the band. Which was a huge relief, as it would have been a massive blow to them all if he did. But what kept Uruha replaying their meeting long after it was over, was Aoi’s exchange with Reita after everything was said and done.

_“I was scared,” Aoi says quietly, voice thick from tears, “I didn’t know what would happen if I told you how I felt. If worse comes to worst and the band could not continue because of me, I don’t think I could forgive myself. But I guess I gave myself away anyway. Should have known better than to try and hide this,” he chuckles wetly and smiles, “Should have known better than to think that none of you would care. Thank you, for working this out with me.”_

_Reita smiles warmly at him, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, “I wish that you’d told us sooner, but I understand why you hadn’t. But from now on, please trust us to help you. No matter the problem, no matter how difficult it gets, we’ll figure it out. I want us to be able to be honest with each other. I want us to trust that each of us will try.”_

It got Uruha thinking about the secret he kept closest to his heart, and the compromises he has had to make around it, ever since he realized what it was, and what it could mean for everything he held dear. It has been a long time now since he made the decision to lock his feelings away. He thinks he has done a pretty good job managing it so far, only ever reminded of it when his chest aches dully at Reita’s affectionate touches, or at seeing him enamored by the women he has dated over the years. But seeing Aoi implode the way he did, he could not help but wonder if eventually, he will end up the same way. If eventually, the years of pretending he is not in love with his best friend will finally catch up to him and make him do something he will regret.

It also made him wonder if telling Reita how he felt would be so bad. _I want us to trust that each of us will try_ , he had said. The chance of receiving his acceptance instead of his scorn sparked a hope in him that he could no longer put out. And it warred fiercely with the despair that convinced him long ago that confessing would only lead him – lead _them_ – towards disaster.

Over the years, Uruha had entered casual relationships here and there, where it was convenient and where time allowed. While he did not expect much to come of them, considering how his career and lifestyle were not conducive to stable, happy relationships, a part of him had always desperately hoped that one day, he would find someone that could release the chokehold Reita had on his heart. Someone that he could love more deeply, more devotedly, than he did his best friend.

But as time went on, it became clear that it was never going to happen. His love weighed heavily from all that they shared over years long past, and weighed nothing at all for the light it shone on his most hopeless days. For better or worse, there was no replacing his best friend. For better or worse, there was nothing else that could compare.

So, in the darkness of his bedroom in Tokyo, Uruha makes a decision. He decides that, yes. He will come clean to Reita. He will pick the right place, and the right time, and he will tell him how he feels. Even if it meant risking everything he had worked so hard for, and the friendship he had treasured for so long. He will take his chance and he will try. He hopes that Reita will try for him as well.

🌗

The right time came at the end of their Magnificent Malformed Box tour. They had just completed their final at Yokohama Arena, and agreed on a two-to-three-year release schedule that would allow them more time to flesh out their concepts and fine-tune their music. Uruha had felt both relieved and at a loss for what to do with all the time he had now. But in the end, it was probably for the best. Considering the bomb he was about to drop on his best friend, he was pretty sure they would all appreciate those few extra months apart.

A week after their final, Uruha invites Reita over for dinner and video games. Reita eagerly accepts, saying it has been a while since it was just the two of them. Uruha stares at the message, unsure of how to feel. It seems putting Reita at arm’s length these past few years has affected him more than he thought. He feels hope rising in his chest, but immediately quashes it down. He does not want to get ahead of himself.

He orders the pizza and tells Reita to bring the drinks. When Reita arrives at his doorstep, he is bundled in a thick scarf, eyes peeking over his black facemask, bleached hair mussed in complete disarray.

“Brought the drinks,” he chirps, taking off his shoes and unfurling the scarf from his neck, “I know you said no alcohol, but I brought beer just in case.”

Uruha snorts, because of course he would. “Alright, just throw it in the fridge,” he tells him as he sets up the console. While he appreciates the thought, he will not be drinking tonight. He needs to be sober for this.

When they settle down in front of the TV and Uruha loads Mortal Kombat, it was like nothing had changed. Reita continues beating him at video games, Uruha continues playing dirty to win, and they are still both able to scarf down their body-weight’s worth of pizza and still be hungry afterwards. It was like they were back in high school again. Uruha missed how simple it was then.

“Dude you’ve gotten rusty!” Reita laughs after he pulverizes Uruha’s fighter for the nth time that evening, “How’d you get so bad so quickly?”

“I’m sorry, I guess I’ve just been making music? Touring?” he takes a swig of his Coke, “Do you remember all that? What have _you_ been doing?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Reita jabs, punching his arm, “Tell you what. You win this round, I’ll do whatever you want for an entire day. Your wish is my command. Because you’re my best friend, and I am feeling very sorry for you right now.”

Uruha raises an eyebrow and smirks, “That sounds like a huge commitment, Reita. Are you sure about that?” he tries not to laugh at how serious his friend looks, “What if I wanna go to Disneyland? Would you wait in line for a ride with me? Defend our spot from people who try to cut in? Poke their eyes out with a churro if I asked?”

Reita puffs out his chest and nods, “I’m a man of my word,” he replies boldly. He is so stupid, so utterly moronic. Uruha wants to cry.

“Alright then,” he says, and starts another round, “Prepare to get your ass beat.”

To his utmost surprise, he does. Sure, Uruha had been trying harder to win, deliberately using combos he remembers instead of button-smashing his way through the fight. But from the amateur slip-ups he made to the way his expected combos came less often than they should, Uruha was positive that his friend had been lenient on him. When the round was over, he paused the screen and turned to Reita.

“That was way too easy,” he squints, eyeing his friend suspiciously, “That was way too easy, and I suspect you’re to blame.”

“Holy shit you manage to win a game and you’re still not satisfied?!” Reita cackled.

“I’m serious!” Uruha whines loudly, slapping him on the shoulder, “You were clearly pulling your punches! I don’t know why you would do that, but at least don’t go easy on me, it just makes me feel worse!”

“Uruha, you won fair and square!” he shrugs dramatically, feigning ignorance in that over-the-top way only he knows how.

Uruha glowers at him, unconvinced, “I still don’t believe you.”

“Well then, I don’t know what to tell you,” Reita grins cheekily, “Now quit arguing and think of something you want!” he claps Uruha’s face with both hands, making him yelp and sputter, before suddenly getting up to head to the bathroom, “I gotta go take a piss. When I come out you better have something in mind!”

“Are you running to the bathroom to end this conversation!?” Uruha shouts from his spot on the couch.

“I totally am!” Reita shouts back, and promptly shuts the door, ending their banter as intended.

When his living room falls quiet once more and he is afforded a moment alone, Uruha slumps down on the couch, heaving a long-drawn-out sigh. He could feel his nerves creeping up on him again, making his heart beat faster and his temples break out in cold sweat. He knew he was lucky, that the night progressed as he had intended so far. But sooner or later, Uruha would have to tell him. He would have to tell him how he felt, and things would never be the same again.

He sees his blurry face reflected on the TV screen and the frown etched between his eyebrows. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. ‘Don’t be afraid now,’ he tells himself. There will be plenty of time for that later, when it is all said and done.

Uruha jumps when Reita returns from the bathroom, plopping down on the couch beside him. But before he could compose himself, Reita had already sensed something amiss.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, peering at Uruha curiously, “You’re frowning.”

Uruha swallows his apprehension with a smile, “No, nothing. Just thinking about what you could do for me. I don’t _actually_ want to give you a hard time, y’know.”

“Pfft don’t worry about it,” Reita says, leaning back in his seat, “As long as I get to hang out with you, I really don’t mind.”

“Oh…really?” Uruha mumbles and looks at Reita carefully.

“Yeah,” Reita answers softly, his voice seeming to lose its bravado from earlier, “I meant it when I said it’s been a while, y’know. Since it’s just the two of us.”

Uruha stares at Reita now, more confused than he is anxious. His friend seemed nervous, from the way his shoulders have tensed up to the way he fidgets with his jewelry. He does not quite understand why. “Hey, are you alright?”

Reita ducks his head and looks down on his lap, “Yeah, I am, it’s just…ah, this is embarrassing! ‘Cause I don’t know if this is all just in my head, but it’s like…” he clears his throat, “It feels like we aren’t as close as we used to be. These past few years I could count the number of times we’ve hung out like this on one hand, not counting the times we work or are on tour. It shouldn’t make sense, because we see each other all the time, but…something’s different. And I don’t like it. We’re always together, but why does it feel like I’m drifting away from you?”

Uruha feels his voice die in his throat, guilt settling heavily in the pit of his stomach. He had never meant for him to notice this. He had never meant for Reita to feel this way.

Reita chuckles uneasily in the silence that follows, “I’ve made things awkward, haven’t I?” he mumbles, hair completely covering his eyes, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I brought it up. Forget what I said, I should probably—”

“N-no…!” Uruha stutters, reaching out to grab Reita’s wrist, “I mean, no, don’t be sorry. I know what you mean. But it’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine…”

Reita looks down at his hand, and for the first time, he sounds genuinely hurt. “I don’t understand…”

Uruha sighs despondently, squeezing his wrist once before letting it go. He takes in his friend’s crestfallen face and braces himself for what he is about to do.

“You’re right that we’ve been hanging out less,” he says, “I know, because I’ve been intentionally doing so. I didn’t want to be alone with you more than was necessary,” his heart hammers in panic when Reita’s face drops even further, “B-but it’s not because of you, it’s because of me. It’s because of something that’s happened to me. I wasn’t ready to tell you then, but I’m ready now. Now that the time is right, and I’m brave enough to do so.”

Uruha looks at his best friend and sees the way he held his breath, eyes nervous. He knows he is at the precipice now. All he has to do is take the plunge.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally says.

Reita noticeably freezes, eyes widening ever so slightly, “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” Uruha repeats himself, quieter this time, “I-I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

Reita exhales like the air in his lungs was knocked out of him. He looked like he was about to collapse. Uruha’s hands started trembling, his vision blurring from panic. ‘Get it together,’ he thought. Now is a really, _really_ horrible time to start crying.

“For a long time, I decided that I wouldn’t tell you. That I couldn’t let you know,” Uruha forces himself to continue, “You’re my best friend, my band mate, the GazettE’s bassist. If you had known…it could’ve compromised everything we’ve achieved, everything we could achieve. I couldn’t allow that. Fearing how you’d take it came second to all of that.”

“How long?” Reita suddenly spoke, “Since when?”

Uruha answers honestly, “Since our first live at Budokan.”

“That’s seven years ago,” Reita whispers, “Shima that was seven years ago, what the fuck!”

“Yeah, I know,” he whispers as tears finally spill unbidden down his cheeks. ‘So much for trying to keep it together’ he thinks wryly.

Reita began crying as well, shoulders shaking as small sobs escape him, “All this time I wondered what happened to us,” he chokes out, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “All this time I wondered if I did something wrong, if I did something to push you away. Shima, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know…”

Uruha shakes his head and shifts closer to his best friend, “Don’t be sorry, Ue-chan,” he insists, Reita’s childhood nickname slipping out like the long-cherished endearment that it is, “Please don’t be sorry. You’ve always made me so happy. You did nothing wrong.”

“But then, all those casual flings…why?” he looked up at Uruha, eyes wet and so, so sad.

“I just wanted to get over you,” he answers quietly, looking down on his lap, “I had hoped that maybe, if I looked hard enough, I could find someone that could replace you. That maybe, when I did, I’d be less of a liability to this band—,”

“Don’t!” Reita interrupts him sharply, “Don’t say that about yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes weakly, “But in the end, it was always the same. Every time someone made me happy, you made me happier. Every time someone came close to replacing you, you’d remind me that you were irreplaceable. I don’t think I’ll be getting over you any time soon.”

Reita’s eyebrows pinch together and he closes his eyes, as if in pain. Afraid to upset his friend more than he already has, Uruha steels himself from speaking further, and quietly waits for him to say something.

After a bout of silence, Reita finally speaks up.

“What must I do?” he asks, soft and pleading, “Shima, what must I do? You’ve carried this for so long. I want to make this better for you, but I don’t know how.”

Uruha sniffles wetly, fresh tears spilling down his flushed cheeks. Sweet, kind, wonderful Reita. Still so good to him, even after everything he had said. How did he get so lucky?

He brings a hand to wipe his tear-stained cheeks, “If I could ask for one thing…because I know you’re a man of your word…”

Reita sputters and giggles, covering his mouth with his hand. Uruha could not help but smile, his heart light with relief. He is glad he can still make him laugh.

Reita looks at him through his bangs, “You’re holding me to that?”

“If you want me to…” he says.

“I do,” Reita whispers, leaning in, “Ask me anything.”

Uruha takes in his best friend’s gentle smile, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. He thinks about what he truly wants, about what he should do to do right by them both. It scares him to ask this of Reita. Because it is a lot, and he is afraid of pushing things too far. But if he dares to hope…

“If I could ask for one thing,” Uruha whispers, “If you’re willing…I just want to ask if you could think about it. About us. If you could see yourself with me, if I could have a chance—,” he chokes on his words, cheeks flushing hot with embarrassment, “Wow, okay, this is—I’m sorry, I know this is a lot, if this is making you uncomfortable I’ll—”

Reita shakes his head and hushes him, stopping Uruha mid-sentence, “No, no, it’s okay, S-Shima, I—,” he pauses abruptly, and for a moment he looks nervous, hesitant to continue. After a minute, he takes Uruha’s hands in his and looks him in the eye, gaze solemn and resolute, “Yes, I will think about it.”

Uruha stills at his answer, unsure if he heard correctly. “You will?”

“Yes, I will,” Reita says, surer this time. He gives Uruha’s hands a squeeze “I will, for you. I-It might take some time, but I promise, when I’ve thought this through, I’ll give you a proper answer. I promise I’ll figure this out.”

Uruha blinks back his tears, savouring the warmth that blooms across his chest. He squeezes Reita’s hands back and smiles, “Whatever you decide, I’ll still be here all the same. That you’re still speaking to me is more than I could have hoped for,” he reassures him, “So, no more crying, okay? Go home and rest. You’ll feel better in the morning. Everything will be better in the morning.”

Reita nods and pulls Uruha in for a tight hug, warm and all-encompassing. Uruha wraps his arms around him and buries his face in the crook of his neck, feeling the last of his tension bleed away to the sound of Reita’s beating heart.

Uruha does not hear from Reita again until two weeks later, when he wakes up to a message telling him that he was coming over, and to get ready. When he gets the door, Reita is bouncing lightly on his feet, clean-shaven and handsomely dressed. He carries with him an armful of flowers and Uruha stares, heart lurching to his throat as hope threatens to consume him.

“Akira…?” he calls out nervously.

Reita beams at him then, eyes curved into happy crescents.

“I’ve thought about it,” he whispers, before stepping forward to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Needless to say, the rest was history.

🌤

When Uruha arrives at the kitchen, he sees takeout spread on top of their island counter, Reita’s back turned towards him as he whips up an omelette on their stovetop. The eggs smelled delicious and thankfully, not burnt.

He peeks over Reita’s shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist. “Looks fancy,” he says, watching Reita gently fold the eggs in the pan, fluffy and sprinkled with what looks like cheese cubes, scallions, and some ham.

“Mmm, just using up some leftovers,” he mumbles back shyly, nudging Uruha’s head where it was perched on his shoulder, “Help me set the table, yeah? These should be done in a bit.”

Uruha hums affirmatively, pulling away to rummage through their cupboard for a couple of plates and utensils. When the table was set and Reita slid the omelette onto an awaiting plate, the two unceremoniously dug into their meal, sharing food the way they have done so long before they got together. They banter about everything and nothing, conversation flitting back and forth between live preparations, family, and their friends’ antics on social media.

As they were close to finishing their meal, Uruha finds the opportunity to broach the subject, going about it as bluntly as he always does when it comes to Reita’s shenanigans. “So…Reita…” he begins, biting a chunk off a generously honeyed French toast, “…Is there something you want to tell me?”

Reita stops himself mid-bite and looks up from his phone. “Uh…what?” he says, his full cheeks only making him look more suspicious.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t suspect something going on?” Uruha emphasizes with a raised eyebrow, “The cheesiness, I might give that a pass. But cooking real food? Very odd, especially for you. Clearly something’s going on. Do you have a surprise for me?”

For a moment, they both pause in tentative silence, Reita slowly chewing his food as Uruha stares patiently, sipping his tea.

Eventually, Reita swallows and says, “…Okay, I _may_ have something prepared—”

“I knew it!” Uruha cackles as Reita groans loudly in his seat.

“How are you so quick, this isn’t fair!” he wails, throwing a balled-up tissue at his laughing partner, “I got the whole reveal planned out but now that you caught on it’s not gonna be as dramatic!”

“Aw, Rei-chan, you know you can’t keep secrets from anyone,” Uruha chirps and pokes Reita’s cheek, now puffed out from pursing his lips together, “Though if it helps, besides our band anniversary coming up I really don’t know what the occasion would be. What’s the surprise for?”

“It’s not for anything…specific…” Reita says carefully, “But it _is_ important, and I don’t wanna tell you while we’re stuffing our faces! So, after we clean up, alright?”

“Wow, really? Guess I’ll have to hurry and get this into my stomach now, huh,” Uruha says and scarfs down the remainder of his toast in one bite, making Reita burst into giggles.

When they were done, Uruha offered to do the dishes, so that Reita could have some time to prepare…whatever it was that he wanted to surprise him with. His partner had heaved out a huge sigh of relief, and thanked him as he rushed out, telling Uruha to meet him in the living room when he was done. As he rinsed the last cup and placed it on the drying rack, he pondered what kind of surprise Reita had in store that would make him so jittery and excited.

Stepping into their living room, he finds Reita sitting on the couch, holding a black velvet pouch between the palm of his hands. Noticing Uruha’s presence, Reita looks up at him with a gentle smile and pats the spot next to him, telling Uruha to take a seat.

Uruha sits down gingerly and curiously eyes the pouch, “What is it?”

Reita clears his throat, suddenly looking a lot more nervous than he did moments before, “I-It’s something I’ve been preparing for a while now. A _long_ while now, actually, if I count the two-and-a-half, three years I’ve spent imagining giving this to you. I lied, this morning, about picking up something I bought online. What I actually went to pick up was this…”

Uruha’s eyes widen when Reita pulls out a small leather box from the pouch. He looks up at Reita, too scared to assume further.

Reita looks down shyly when he opens the box to reveal a ring, bright and beautiful and glistening, inlaid with three clear gems and made of white metal, elaborately hammered to mimic the swell of ocean waves.

🌃

It was close to midnight when Uruha shows up at Reita’s door, asking to come in.

They had just finished their live at the Wiltern Theatre, concluding the American leg of their Dogmatic tour. And as usual, after winding down from a live, Uruha had made his way to Reita’s room to meet with him privately in the quiet of the night.

Reita is donned in the hotel’s bathrobe when he greets him, hair still damp from the shower. He smiles warmly and lets Uruha in. As soon as the door closes behind him, Reita immediately drags Uruha down with him onto his double bed, the latter giggling sweetly as Reita rolls them onto their side, arms and legs comfortably tangled together on the sheets.

Reita leans in to press a soft kiss on his cheek, “Missed you,” he sighs tiredly.

Uruha grins and nuzzles his nose against Reita’s, unable to help himself, “Missed you, too,” he replies.

It has been two years since they got together. Two years since Uruha learned what it meant to be loved by Reita. While most things between them have largely remained the same, becoming more than friends had him experiencing a side of Reita he had only ever glimpsed at, but was never privy to, until now. A side that made up odd anniversaries as an excuse to do something special, and sent him quotes from the books he read whenever they reminded him of Uruha. A side that was not afraid to hold his hand when they went out in public, and stood firmly by his side when they announced their relationship to their then-shocked parents. (And then later to their barely-shocked band mates, who only met their announcement with muttered “finally”’s, money exchanged between multiple hands, and their blessings.)

Uruha feels immensely glad he had made the choice to be brave that day. Immensely grateful to see none of his worst fears materialize in front of him, despite the risk that he took. Nonetheless, there are days when he worries what will become of them and their little band, as the years go by and he watches the world around them change.

He is taken out of his thoughts when he feels Reita brush his hair away from his eyes, “You’re a little quiet today,” he says.

Uruha looks up at him and sighs, “ScreW just announced their disbandment. Did you know?” he asks him softly.

Reita nods, “I know. Aoi told me they’ve been planning it for a while now. He was really sad about it.”

“Yeah. I’m kinda sad about it too,” Uruha whispers, “Hearing about all these disbandments and hiatuses. Seeing the people around us move on or be forced to do something different.”

Reita holds his hand and links their fingers together. Uruha musters a sad smile and squeezes back.

“Our circle is getting smaller and smaller every day…and it makes me worried about what’ll happen to us, when we get to the point where we can’t continue as well. I love what we do, and I love that I get to do this with us…” his looks at their joined hands, at the long fingers entwined with his own, “That I get to do this with you. I don’t want to think about what happens when all this comes to an end. But sometimes, I can’t help myself. Does it ever bother you?”

Reita brings his other hand to cup his face. His thumb strokes Uruha’s cheekbone gently, and Uruha tilts his head, following the warmth of his touch. “It does. Well, it used to. These days, I don’t really think about it anymore,” he answers with a squeeze of his hand.

“How come?” Uruha asks quietly.

Reita shrugs casually, looking calmer than Uruha expected him to be. Uruha suspects that he may have already thought through this many times over. “I’ve decided that I don’t want to spend any more time dwelling on what the future may be. I would rather focus on what we have now and treasure it for as long as I can. This band, this music, our fans, your happiness, it is all precious to me. And I will protect it until I am old and wrinkly, and my body no longer cooperates with me. Sounds a lot better than worrying, don’t you think?”

Uruha smiles softly, bringing a hand to rest atop of Reita’s on his face. This headstrong, stubborn, warm-hearted man. He expected nothing less. “Yeah, that does sound a lot better.”

Reita grins, seeming appeased, “That being said, if something happens and all this goes to shit, I’m siphoning all of leader’s money to retire with you here in L.A.”

Uruha bursts into laughter, burying his face in the crook of Reita’s neck. While he knew that would not happen, it would be a lie to say the idea did not tempt him. Los Angeles’ weather was a dream, and in the hours they have spent exploring the neighborhood outside their hotel, they have both come to love it even more.

There was also another reason Uruha would love to settle down here if he could, even if it flusters him to say it out loud.

“Gay marriage is legal here, too,” he mentions shyly, peering at Reita through his lashes.

And for a moment, Reita looks at him quietly, seeming to contemplate what he had said. After a while, his gaze softens, and he presses his forehead against Uruha’s. “You’re right. You’re right, it is.”

Uruha grins up at him. “Can you imagine? Being old married grandpas, enjoying our retired life here in sunny L.A.…”

“Please stop talking, or I’m gonna retire right here right now!” Reita whines and Uruha laughs again, slapping Reita on the chest.

“No you wouldn’t!” he teases, “I don’t think you could leave Japan, even if you tried.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I would miss everything too much,” Reita shrugs, admitting defeat.

Uruha giggles and wraps his arms around Reita’s waist, pressing his head to his chest. He will eventually need to head back. But for now, he lets himself to be lulled by glow of the bedside lamp and Reita’s warmth surrounding him. “Still, it’s a good dream, no?” he whispers.

He feels Reita kiss the top of his head, his strong arms curled protectively around his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

💫

Uruha gapes at the ring in Reita’s hand, and immediately regrets teasing him earlier. How did he miss this?

Reita chuckles at his reaction, dark eyes soft and glassy, “Yeah,” he says breathlessly, “Yamashita was thrilled when I told him I wanted to make something special for you. It took a while to complete this, but now that it’s done…I want to give this to you, to thank you, for sticking with me these past six years – these past 30 years. To have you by my side, through all the good and the bad we’ve been through, it’s a blessing that I don’t take for granted. And I want you to know this, because I feel like there are times that I don’t tell you this enough.”

Uruha feels his eyes prickle with tears, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest. Reita gently takes one of Uruha’s hand in his and rubs his knuckles with his thumb.

“I also want to thank you for having the courage to tell me how you felt that day. If it weren’t for what you did, I might still be as close-minded as I was then, boxed into my ideas of who I can love and how my relationships should be. You made me question everything I ever knew about myself; about who I was and what I wanted. Even though it made me more insecure and unsettled than I’ve ever been, I am grateful for it. I am a better person today because of it. Because of you.”

He pauses to look down at the ring in his lap before he continues, voice steady but watery around the edges. “So, while I can’t offer you more than this – can’t legally call you husband, even though, to me, you already are – I hope that you will accept this regardless, and know that this is what it means to me…and that I hope you feel the same way.”

For a moment, Uruha is rendered speechless. Reita looks up at him, eyes hopeful and nervous, “Shima, please say something—”

Before he could finish, Uruha leaps into his arms and kisses him reverently, soft lips pressing repeatedly on his partner’s cheeks, forehead, nose, lips, making Reita giggle happily. “Yes, yes I do. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he whispers and holds him tight, tears soaking into the fabric of his hoodie.

Reita trembles as he holds him close, the side of his face pressed into Uruha’s hair, “I’m glad,” he says, relieved, “I’m really glad. C-can I…can I put it on?”

Uruha pulls back and eagerly nods, grinning so hard his face could split in half. Reita takes the ring and gently puts it on Uruha’s ring finger, cradling his partner’s hand between his as he rocks it back and forth, beaming at the way it glints and sparkles as it turns, like a happy child. Uruha is hopelessly fond.

“It’s beautiful,” he sighs as he kisses him, over and over again, “I love you, I love you, I need you. Please, let me thank you…”

He pushes Reita to lie down on the couch and straddles his hips, hands cradling his face as he grinds down on him, slow and steady.

Reita gasps at the friction, shuddering in surprise when one of Uruha’s hands reaches down to stroke his hardening member through his jeans, “Shima—ah! I’m not complaining but, right now?”

Uruha raises his head and smiles at Reita breathlessly, “Yes. Right now. I want to love my husband right now,” he whispers, “Want to take him in me, let him fuck me, make him feel so good he comes over and over again inside me, all over me, anywhere he wants on me. Will you let me?”

Reita moans brokenly and thrusts into the warmth of Uruha’s palm. “Fuck, yes, please!” he groans and Uruha giggles playfully, letting Reita kiss him hungrily, desperately, as he began to strip them both of their clothes, eager to please.

Later, when they held each other tiredly on the couch, their clothes strewn all over the floor and bodies sated in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Reita kisses the ring on his finger softly, whispering “thank you”’s and “I love you”’s into Uruha’s hair as he falls asleep to the image of their rings glinting white and gold in the dappled afternoon light.

🐝

_“This sucks, this suuucks_ ,” Aoi sing-yells into a pillow.

“Aoi goddammit—”

“He’s right, though,” Ruki mumbles, lying on his back on the carpeted floor.

“ _Everything is great, but everything also suuuuucks!_ ”

Reita grumbles and heads over to where Aoi is splayed out on the loveseat with his third gin and coke, “Aoi, please, my neighbors will kill me.”

Uruha chuckles from his spot next to Kai, who is plating up some yakisoba while the rest lounge in the living room, snacks and drinks spread out haphazardly on his and Reita’s coffee table.

“It’s not even late yet and Aoi’s already going down,” Uruha says, rolling his eyes.

“He’s gonna be a mess in the morning, but I don’t even care,” Kai sighs as he grabs a couple of bowls and chopsticks from the overhead cupboard, “We all kinda need this. I’m glad you two called the rest of us over. I know we have to self-isolate and stuff right now, but seriously, the cabin fever was driving me nuts.”

Uruha nods understandingly, picking up the dish as they head over to the living room. With the coronavirus wreaking havoc on what they thought was a schedule set in stone, things have taken a dramatic turn in the weeks leading up to Day 6576. Though they had tried their best to hold their live as planned, with the government’s sudden request to postpone large gatherings and events, and growing anxiety that their best precautions may not be enough to keep their staff and fans safe, the band was left with little choice but to cancel their anniversary live.

It was a first for their career, to have to cancel a live this way. It had been upsetting and frustrating. They have been looking forward to it for a long time, and so have their fans, both local and overseas. But despite the setback, they have all been trying their best to look on the brighter side of things. After all, it was still their anniversary. Eighteen whole years of performing and making music together. That was still an amazing feat on its own, and still worthy of a celebration. Even if this time, it will have to be downsized to just the five of them. Nothing they have not done before.

When Uruha and Kai returned to the living room, Ruki was scrolling through his phone on the floor while Aoi was on the verge of breaking out into another song, much to Reita’s exasperation.

“Thank goodness you’re back,” he huffs, and plucks Aoi’s glass from his hand, “Oi, Aoi, you good? The food’s here.”

Aoi whines as he rolls over and plops down next to the coffee table, where Kai and Uruha clear away the snacks for the stir-fry. Once Ruki gets up from his spot and Kai pops open a cold beer, they begin digging into their meal, conversation inevitably drifting to the news, their families, and the things they could do once the outbreak blows over, and things become manageable once more.

They were nearly done with their meal when Ruki claps his hands together and asks Uruha the question he had been anticipating for weeks.

“Before I forget to ask and these two become too drunk to remember…can you two please show us the couple rings that you’re _clearly_ wearing?” he asks bluntly, Kai and Aoi making no effort to stifle their giggles. Uruha rolls his eyes, sighing loudly as Reita crawls to hide behind him, trying to make himself as small as physically possible. “Please, come on!” Ruki yells then, making the other two burst into laughter, “I’ve been waiting to ask this for weeks! We all have!”

“Clearly,” Uruha deadpans, recalling the way they repeatedly snuck glances at his and Reita’s hands in and out of meetings, gossiping like teenagers when they thought the two of them were not looking, “None of you were exactly subtle about it.”

“Who got them? Did you choose them together?” Ruki asks excitedly, completely ignoring his comment.

Uruha chuckles incredulously at Reita, who still hid behind him, forehead pressed against his shoulder as he shook his head in answer. “No, Reita surprised me,” he says in his stead and shows them his ring, which stood out amongst the silver that adorned his other fingers.

“This is actually really pretty,” Kai says in awe, “Reita, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

Reita lifts his head from Uruha’s shoulder to glare at him. “Excuse you, we’re all friends with at least one jeweler here, did you think I would half-ass this!?” he says, affronted. He spreads his hand next to Uruha’s to show them his matching ring, “I asked Yamashita for help. I wanted it custom-made,” he adds shyly. Uruha lowers his head and grins. He does not have to look back to know that Reita is flushing red behind him.

“He’s so romantic, oh my god!” Aoi wails, making Ruki and Kai laugh once more. Reita groans and goes back to hiding behind Uruha. “No, no, come back, I mean it! This is really cute. I’m really happy for the both of you,” he says, face flushed and eyes glassy. Uruha silently hopes that he does not start crying, at least, not yet.

“Yeah…it’s been a long time coming,” Ruki nods sagely, looking over them calmly before suddenly slapping his hands on the tabletop and refilling everyone’s drinks, “This calls for a toast!”

Reita comes out from behind Uruha and waves his hands frantically, face turning even darker at the suggestion, “Oh god please no it’s not a big deal—!”

“Nonsense!” Ruki proclaims, filling his own glass with apple juice, “We are doing this. Everyone please raise your glasses!”

Kai and Aoi snicker as they raise their drinks, Uruha and Reita raising theirs tentatively as they brace themselves for their inevitable embarrassment.

“First off, before we get to these two,” Ruki begins, gesturing vaguely at the two men beside him, “I actually want to make a toast, to us. Most bands don’t last 18 years. And yet here we are, still going strong. This is going to sound kinda gross, but…I am glad that out of everyone I’ve ever met, it is you four that I get to share this journey with. That we can still do this together, despite everything that’s been thrown at us…it is a testament to our spirit, our will to endure. I am incredibly proud of us. I am grateful that I still have all of you. I hope we can keep going for as long as we can.

“And secondly, secondly—Reita please don’t run off, you’ll be fine, I promise,” Ruki chuckles as he pulls Reita back into his seat, much to the latter’s dismay, “I would like to make a toast to the happy couple. While I don’t know all the details of how you two got together…and what I do know is perhaps a story for another day…” he adds cryptically with a wink and a nod, “I do think – _we_ all think – that you two are incredibly endearing. What’s the phrase that the kids use these days? ‘Hashtag couple goals’?” Uruha and Reita roll their eyes to the sound of their band mates’ laughter, “In any case…congratulations to you both. I hope you two stay together for a long time to come. Cheers.”

As they clink their glasses, _kanpai_ s and well-wishes and congratulations resounding firmly among the five of them, Uruha blushes and smiles, heart warm and full at Ruki’s words. At the sound of sniffles however, he snaps his head around, and sees Reita tearing up behind him, trying to bury his face beneath the collar of his oversized hoodie.

“Reita, are you crying?” Kai asks incredulously. He cackles immediately when he leans over from his spot to look at him, “Oh my god you really are!”

“Shut up, don’t look at me!” Reita whines.

Ruki grins widely and coos, hugging his band mate’s shoulders “Aw Rei-chan.”

“Dammit Reita, stop crying or I’m gonna—oh, fuck,” Aoi whimpers and proceeds to cry into his alcohol, much to the surprise of no-one.

Kai laughs even louder, thoroughly amused, “You two are such saps! Uruha, where do you keep the tissues? I think we might need more.”

Uruha nods his head towards the kitchen, “There’s some more on the counter. Just bring the whole thing.”

As Kai heads to the kitchen to grab more tissues, Ruki rolling his eyes at how this is "so typical of A blood types", Uruha nudges Reita’s elbow to check if he is doing alright. When their eyes meet, he really does not have to say a thing, Uruha thinks. Not when Reita is looking at him like that, sweet and starry-eyed as he blinks away traces of his happy tears clinging to the tips of his lashes.

When his band mates take their leave later that evening, Ruki driving an inebriated Aoi and Kai home, Uruha tucks himself next to Reita on their shared bed, where the other lay asleep on his front, messy hair fanning out over his pillow.

At feeling the bed dip, Reita’s eyes blink open and he blearily looks up at Uruha, voice soft and sleepy, “Shima, going to sleep?”

Rain began pouring gently outside their window, the clock reading 2 a.m. in the early morning of March 10th. Uruha smiles at him tenderly and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah, I am,” he answers, reaching over to turn off the lights.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess which part of this fic I scrambled to rewrite during the last week of February lol.
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://redbaretta.tumblr.com) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/redbaretta). Feel free to hit me up on either; I use both regularly, and am also getting back into making gifs and stuff.


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